


Spideynova Week Fics

by WebbedUpKatanas



Category: Ultimate Spider-Man (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 10:23:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3688668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WebbedUpKatanas/pseuds/WebbedUpKatanas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spideynova fics written for the prompts: Angry, Date Night and Carnival. I will be posting the Cuddly prompt seperately since I think I might expand on that universe in future fics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beaver Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Summary: Sam's boyfriend's texts are like a waking nightmare when all he wants to do is get a few dam(n) hours of sleep.
> 
> Written for the prompt: Angry

When Sam’s phone beeps at 2am he figures it has to be some kind of emergency. Why someone is texting him for an emergency is beyond him, but there’s no other possible reason someone would wake him up at this hour right?

Wrong.

Peter: hey man i know its late but i just cant get this out of my mind, like u know how we dream and dogs dream and I think cats do too idk but like do beavers dream?

Sam sighs, his eyes drifting closed as he thumbs back his answer.

Sam: go to sleep asshole

Peter: but do beavers have dreams sam?

Peter: like

Peter: do u think they have ambitions?

Sam: oh my god parker shut up and GO TO SLEEP

Sam groans, throwing an arm over his eyes. He wonders if putting on the Nova helmet and flying over to Parker’s place to shut him up is worth a shot, but at this point the thought of getting out of bed is too terrible to even entertain for more than a second. Also he’d probably end up punching the idiot and waking up aunt May.

Peter: do you think they have hopes?

Sam: I will kick ur ass webhead

Peter: what would a beaver evn hope 4?

Peter: a new dam? A better life? Financial stability?

Sam: I will kill u and hide ur body in space

That seems to have worked. Sam gets five minutes of blessed silence, and finally he feels like he’s about to drift off when suddenly his phone goes off again.

“Ughh Peter I swear to god if this is about beavers…” he mutters to himself, groping around in the dark for his phone. He shouldn’t even bother checking, but at this point it’s like morbid curiosity.

Peter: would it be sick for a beaver to dream of getting away from the river and opening up their own beaver tail shop? u know, like the pastries they sell in canada?

Sam: im never speaking 2 u again

Peter: bc its not technically a real beaver tail

Peter: and they r delicious

Sam growls, burying his face in the pillow. He decides that Parker is the worst boyfriend in the entire universe while trying not to scream as he hears the dreaded ding of a new text coming in.

Peter: Ive come to a conclusion

He’s horrified to find himself morbidly curious. Did Peter Google beaver dreams? Who would have done a study on beaver sleep patterns? What possible reason could scientists have had for that? Unless scientists are all just horrible asshats like Peter and did it to piss off their significant others…

Peter: a beaver selling beaver tails would be kinda quaint and charming

With his face back in the pillow Sam screams.

Okay, new tactic.

He switches his phone to silent, and places it face down on the bedside table. He’s gonna ignore him. He’s going to ignore him and then tomorrow he’s going to kill him.

He stares at the ceiling. He stares at his hands. He wishes Peter was here so he could smother him to death.

He can’t sleep. Not when he knows Peter is there… texting about beavers. He can practically feel the texts coming in. He can practically feel the beavers dreaming their stupid beavery dreams.

After a few restless minutes Sam picks up his phone and has to thank the universe that he doesn’t have super strength, because if he did he would have crushed the hell out of it. He’s going to need his phone, and his arsenal of embarrassing blackmail pictures, in the near future if Peter keeps this up.

Peter: Sam?

Peter: u there?

Peter: sam pls I swear im not into beaver cannibalism

Peter: sammmm

Peter: saaaaaaam sam sam sam

Peter: what do beavers dream of when they take a lil beaver snooze

Fuck this.

He dials Peter’s number, fully planning to yell at his boyfriend until his head explodes, but when Peter answers he just ends up making a pathetic whining noise instead.

“Sam? Are you okay?” At least Peter sounds genuinely worried. He may be a limp threadbare dishrag that someone used to wipe their ass, but he cares. That’s something at least.

“Stop. Just stop. Stop it,” he whines, and Peter is just enough of an asshole to chuckle quietly.

“Okay okay. I’m sorry I didn’t realize you were that tired.”

“You did too jerk,” Sam says, his eyes already starting to close now that he knows there won’t be any more texts.

“Yeah I did. Are you pissed at me? Do you want me to come over?” Peter asks, that little hint of concern back in his voice. Or maybe Sam is so tired he’s imagining things.

“Yes I’m pissed. I’m very pissed. But no don’t come over Parker, I’m so tired.”

“Okay okay…. g’night So Tired. Sweet dreams.”

“Wazzat a dad joke?” Sam groans, already losing the battle with consciousness. “Hate you. So much.”

“Love you too Sam,” Peter says, and hangs up.

When Sam finally falls asleep he dreams of beavers.

……….

The Midtown High hallways are full of annoyed and half asleep students the next morning, but none so annoyed and exhausted as Sam Alexander. He stalks through the halls, parting the crowds despite his short stature through the sheer force of his tired glare. He’s pretty sure the dark circles under his eyes have circles of their own, and he can’t even bring himself to care that his shirt is inside out.

He manages to track down exactly the ass house he’s looking for, crowding him back against the lockers like a tiny ball of rage. “What the hell was all that beaver crap about last night?” Sam asks, shoving Peter’s shoulders.

“Morning to you too sunshine,” Peter says, beaming down at him. He looks completely at ease despite his overly tired murderous boyfriend getting all up in his space.

“I’m serious Parker. Why? I need to know why.”

“There was a documentary on beavers on tv last night,” Peter says with a shrug, a wicked grin spreading on his face and filling Sam’s heart with fear. He cringes on instinct, somehow knowing before he even opens his mouth again that whatever Pete is about to say is going to be bad.

“It was the best dam show I’ve ever watched.”

Sam doesn’t kiss him for a week.


	2. Win Me Your Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam has worked at the carnival for as long as he can remember, but no one has ever caught his eye as much as the infuriating (and infuriatingly adorable) Ring Toss Guy. 
> 
> Written for the prompt: Carnival with a bonus of lots of making out

Sam sits in his booth with his feet kicked up on the ledge, already bored out of his mind and it’s only two minutes into his shift. The carnival is bustling with people, but not many of them seem willing to stop and play games today, most of them heading straight for the rides. Not that he really cares. He’d rather just chill than have children screeching at him and parents getting all up in his face over the games being fixed or the toys being small.

Maybe if he closes his eyes no one will bother him…

"Hey loser,” a voice he knows well calls to him only a few seconds later. “Guess who I just saw on his way over."

Sam tries to act casual as he looks up at Ava and raises his eyebrows, but he can tell from one look at her knowing smile that she knows that he knows exactly who she’s talking about.

The guys name is Peter and he’s been coming to the carnival almost every day for the past five weeks. Or at least he had been right up until this week. He’d suddenly stopped showing up every day at Sam’s Ring Toss both with a smile and snacks to share, and though Sam hates to admit it he misses him. A lot.

“The president?” he guesses, and Danny laughs, appearing out of nowhere and hopping up to sit on the broad ledge of the front of Sam’s booth.

“Even better. At least for you,” he says with a wicked gleam in his eyes. Anyone who thinks Danny is as sweet and innocent as he acts is sorely mistaken. The guy might be a downright hippie, but he’s just as good at teasing as any of them. Better even, since he can snap back to feigning that his Zen enlightenment puts him above all of that in a heartbeat.

Sam tries to subtly fix his hair, though at this point he knows Ava and Danny are both watching him like hawks and there’s probably no point in subtlety. But hey, he’s also past the point of denying his crush on the infuriatingly cute guy who wins every single time he plays.

It hadn’t always been like this. In fact, at first he had loathed Peter.

Everything from his snarky comments to the way his pretty friends had marveled over his ability to toss a stupid ring had immediately rubbed Sam the wrong way. He’d found himself snarking back in an increasingly rude way, and though the girl with the red hair and the guy whose shoes were so expensive they were probably insured had both seemed a little put off Peter’s eyes had practically shone as he took it all and gave it back just as good.

The next time Sam had seen him was the very next day, this time with a blonde girl. He had idly found himself wondering if everyone Peter knew was pretty, as Peter paid him for his rings. The asshole had once again won a huge stuffed bear for the girl, who actually turned out to be very sweet and had introduced herself as Gwen. He remembered wondering how someone as nice as her had gotten mixed up with a jerkwad like Peter.

After that Peter always came back alone, and no matter what Sam did he always kicked ass. He had even fixed the game (more so than usual) just to watch the guy flounder, but after an initial shot where the ring had just bounced off the too-close poles Pete had merely twisted his wrist a little and impossibly managed to get the ring to hook. Even Sam had been a little impressed beneath his fury.

After a while Sam had horrifyingly found himself looking forward to Peter’s arrival each day. He was weirdly attached to the way he’d buy an extra cotton candy or bag of popcorn or candy apple to give to Sam while he monopolized his time, and the way he laughed at everything Sam said, or looked right into his eyes when he spoke. He was even looking forward to their sarcastic battles more and more, though the times when they let all of that drop and just talked were even better. At some point Peter had even started offering him the huge prizes he won, which Sam had only accepted twice.

What? He may practically live here, but he’d always liked the giant banana with sunglasses and the giraffe was too cute to pass up. (And if he slept every night spooning with Cool Dude Banana while he held Giant Giraffe in his arms, it wasn’t like anyone had to know.)

Whenever Sam didn’t accept a toy, Peter always gave his winnings away to passing kids, and Sam hated it. Hated it because it made it a lot harder to hate this douchecanoe when he kept insisting on being sweet and kind, and asking Sam about his life like he genuinely cared, and feeding him and making him laugh.

So yes, Sam has a crush. And unfortunately for him, his friends all know it.

“Speak of the devil,” Ava chuckles as Peter appears through the crowd. He still pretends to check out the other games, even though everyone knows he’s headed straight for the Ring Toss.

“And he shall appear in a skimpy outfit,” Danny finishes for her, waggling his eyebrows at Sam and earning a swat. He hops off the edge of the booth, grabbing at Ava’s arm to tug her along as he passes. “Come on Ava, let’s leave these two alone. I’m sure they have much to discuss. It’s been ages, as Sam has told us repeatedly.”

They walk away laughing just as Peter arrives, casting them a curious glance before shrugging and beaming at Sam. He looks cute, his loose tank top showing off more of his arms than should be allowed by law, and Sam already feels his annoyance at being ditched for almost a full week melt away before Peter even opens his mouth.

“Hey there.”

"Hey, I was starting to think you weren’t coming back," Sam responds, taking Peter’s money along with the giant lollipop he hands him. That wasn’t exactly the smoothest thing he could have said, but Peter doesn’t even seem to notice.

"What and miss all the fast paced action of the Ring Toss the very last week you’re here? No way," Peter chuckles. "I just had a lot of packing to do. I’m moving into my dorm next week."

"Oh right, I forgot I was talking to Mr. Astrophysics College Boy himself,” Sam replies sarcastically, handing him his stupid rings and letting their fingers brush more than is strictly necessary.

"Biophysics," Peter murmurs, actually seeming embarrassed for a second.

“Right of course. How could I mix those two up,” he laughs, and Peter laughs along with him, tossing a ring at his head.

“You know you aren’t getting that one back,” Sam informs him solemnly, and Peter just rolls his eyes, tossing another without even looking and landing it right on the top peg.

“So… what are you gonna win today?” Sam asks after a moment to fill the silence, and Peter grins widely at him.

“Do you like snakes?”

“Win me one and see.”

……….

Peter plays just as well as he always does, but it seems like only a few minutes has passed before suddenly another of Sam’s coworkers is interrupting. He glares suspiciously up at Luke as he leans against the booth casually, his sunglasses making his expression difficult to read. Sam has a funny feeling Ava and Danny must have sent him though. Especially when he opens his mouth.

"Hey Sam take a break, I got the Toss," Luke says, which makes absolutely no sense since Luke usually runs rides. Sam isn’t sure he’s ever seen him work a game booth before, and he’s been working on this carnival along with his whole family since he was old enough to walk.

"What? I don’t have a break for like three hours."

"I said got the Toss. Go show your friend around or something. He’s been coming here for weeks he deserves the grand tour," he insists, walking around to the entrance as Sam takes the easier route and hops over the front of the booth. Peter’s face is a little bit red, like he somehow didn’t expect any worker other than Sam to notice that he comes here every day, and Sam finds that pretty cute.

“If he even wants a tour of this dump,” he feigns disinterest, desperately hoping that Peter will agree. Getting a chance to show a cute guy around the place that had practically been his playground when he was a kid sounds like the perfect day to Sam if he’s being honest.

“Of course. Show me the ways of the mysterious carny,” Peter laughs as Sam rolls his eyes and begins to walk.

He shows him around, surprised to find that Peter actually seems invested in the tour. He never once gets distracted by the sights and sounds of the carnival other than the ones Sam is pointing out, and even asks questions which Sam definitely wasn’t expecting. Despite that, it doesn’t feel so much like a formal tour as it does a date, especially since Peter’s hand keeps brushing against Sam’s in a way that has to be intentional given how frequently it happens.

"Tunnel of Love? Really? I didn’t think those actually existed," Peter says, gaping in disbelief at the giant paint-peeling pink hearts that mark the entrance to the ride.

Heh. Tunnel of Love. It never gets old. Sam has to bite his lip to keep from laughing, and Peter glares at him completely unamused.

"No. Whatever joke you’re about to make, and believe me I know what joke you’re about to make, just… no."

"Whaaat?" Sam says, completely innocently.

"You know what," Peter huffs. “If you’ve worked here for so long you should really be above this.”

"And yet I’m totally not,” Sam laughs, letting his fingers brush against Peter’s again. “Wait hold on, you’ve been coming here every day for five weeks and you really haven’t seen this yet? It’s right in the middle of the park dude."

"I uh… I pretty much just come for the Ring Toss," Peter mumbles, looking away.

That’s not true.

Sam knows that’s not true because three times since they got here he’s been working at different games, and all three times Peter had spent his whole day there instead of at the Ring Toss, infuriatingly winning every single game he played.

"Come on, I’ll give you a behind the scenes look," Sam says after a beat, tugging Peter towards the ride.

"Wait, won’t there be people on it?"

"Nah, it’s never running. The only time anyone goes in there is when someone working here wants to makeout," he says, grinning to himself when Peter’s face goes pink.

Even though he eager to show Pete around, Sam kind of hates the Tunnel of Love. No one ever cares enough to put it together right, so the hordes of animatronic cupids and swooning girls always glitch when the ride is in motion and creep him out. And they aren’t much better when they aren’t moving, their creepy painted faces staring unblinkingly at anyone who dares to trespass in their land of love. Not to mention the weird swan boats. Sam hates the swan boats.

Peter on the other hand seems to love everything about the place. He runs around like an overeager puppy, babbling excitedly and making jokes about everything while Sam follows him around laughing at both the things he says and how excited he is.

After a while he seems to run out of steam, and they both stand there, looking around in companionable silence, so close that Sam can feel the warmth from Peter’s body against his skin.

"So… that making out thing… is that some kind of a carny tradition?" Peter asks after a moment, trying to sound casual.

"Yeah," Sam replies flippantly, shrugging. "I guess you could say that."

The next thing he knows Peter’s hands are in his hair and he’s being kissed with such thorough intensity that it honest to god makes his knees go weak.

“I’m very big on tradition,” Peter tells him when he pulls back, his hands still fisted in the hair on either side of Sam’s head.

“I can tell,” Sam breathes, and then they’re kissing again.

Sam pushes his body in close to Peter even as Peter starts walking him backwards, and Sam loses track of where their hands are at any given moment. Peter’s hands in particular seem to be everywhere at once. They start out carding through his hair, then the next thing he knows they’re sliding up and down his sides, resting on his hips for a moment before suddenly there are nails digging into his shoulders, and then fingers gently tracing down the curve of his spine. Sam shivers and clings to him, trying to keep up as Peter systematically shuts down his brain with every movement of his lips and sweep of his tongue.

Sam has kissed a few people before, but it’s never ever been like this.

It’s so good in fact that he doesn’t even realize he’s still walking backwards until he’s backed straight into the arrow of a grinning little cupid.

"Ouch! Oh, fuck you Hawkeye," he bites out, upset that he had to break the kiss to see what attacked him.

Peter raises a questioning eyebrow. His hair is sticking up in all directions and though it’s hard to tell in the dim lighting Sam thinks his lips are a little bit redder than they were before.

"The dumb statue things all have names," Sam tells him with a helpless shrug.

"That’s creepy," Peter replies, proving that he’s a genius when he takes the opportunity of their lips being apart to lean in and kiss at the line of Sam’s neck.

“Y-yeah,” he agrees, tilting his head to give Peter room to suck a mark that he’s very much going to regret later against his pulse point. They carry on like that for a while, until Sam gets impatient to have Peter’s lips back on his and has to grab his face and pull him back in. The way Peter chuckles against his mouth is totally worth the embarrassment of being so needy, especially when Peter takes the initiative to deepen the kiss after only a second and holds Sam up by his waist as he melts against him.

Sam wraps his arms around Peter’s neck and tries to press in as close as possible, but it’s frustrating and slightly uncomfortable having to lean up. He’s sure it’s not much better for Peter having to stoop to kiss him, so eventually he pulls back, grabbing Pete’s hand and tugging him in the opposite direction.

“Wanna make out in the swan boat?” he asks, only loathing himself a little for the suggestion because Peter’s happy grin is totally worth being cheesy for.

“That’s swan suggestion I can really get behind,” he giggles and Sam squeezes his hand tight enough to hurt in punishment.

“No. No puns. Get in the bird so I can shut you up before you make me regret this.”

Peter hops in without protest and takes a seat, grinning up at Sam and looking smug and pleased and annoying as hell. So Sam barely thinks about it before he’s straddling the taller boy and kissing that expression right off of his face.

“Mmm,” Peter agrees with Sam’s course of action eloquently against his lips.

Oddly enough the kiss slows to something sweeter once Sam is settled in Peter’s lap. Their lips move lazily, still kissing deeply with their hands still wandering just as much, but without the frantic edge of before. This is the kind of kissing that means neither one would mind doing it for a long time to come, and that’s almost more exciting than the desperate messy kissing they were doing earlier. Not that there was anything wrong with that either. Sam has a feeling there are about a thousand ways he could kiss Peter and he’d never get tired of it.

Sam has just gathered up the courage to slide his hand up under Peter’s shirt when there’s a loud metallic screeching followed by a blare of screeching violin music. Sam screeches right along with it, reeling back in shock and almost falling off of Peter’s lap.

“What the-” Peter blinks into the sudden light, looking absolutely horrified as the cupids and nymphs leap into action, flapping their wings to some hellish beat of their own and dancing with jerky mechanical motions that make it look like they’ve been possessed.

“Ava,” Sam groans, putting his arm across his eyes in his distress. “She has the key for this ride. God I hate her so much.”

The swan shudders like an ancient evil, awoken from primordial slumber to shake out its feathers, and then it begins to move lazily down the shallow trickle of murky water that is meant to be Love River. All of a sudden Peter is laughing, deep rumbles that Sam can feel through his chest as he slumps back down and muffles his own laughter against Peter’s shoulder.

“I’ll help you get her back sometime,” Peter says against his hair, and when Sam tilts his head to look at him his expression is soft and so fond that it makes his chest flutter. He sits up so that he can kiss him again, and for a moment he manages to forget that he’s in a giant swan with cheesy music blasting and weird little figures dancing all around him. For a moment it’s just him and Peter and he couldn’t be any happier.

“I’ll take you up on that,” he says, closing his eyes as Peter runs a hand through his hair.

“How about tonight at dinner?” Peter asks, lacing the fingers of his free hand through Sam’s own.

Sam opens his eyes, grinning widely.

“Yeah okay. It’s a date.”


	3. Make a Bid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Danny's charity date auction turns out a lot differently than Peter was expecting. Not that he can complain.
> 
> Written for the prompt: Date Night

"I still think you should have been in the auction," MJ tells Peter cheerfully as they filter into the gym along with the rest of the crowd. "Harry and Danny worked really hard on it you know."

Peter sighs in exasperating, avoiding his friend’s eyes and gazing around at the fancy decorations instead. Wow MJ is right about one thing, Harry and Danny really went all out.

Gone were the bleachers and sports equipment, all indication that this was once a gym having been swept away to leave a spectacular sight in it’s wake. Streamers hung from the ceiling and a rich green carpet covered the rubber floors, with tables of prizes and different forms of over the top entertainment as far as the eye could see. There was even a table with an impressive spread of food and a cake big enough to feed the whole student body twice over.

"I told you already MJ, no one would bid on a date with me. I’d just be wasting time waiting for a pity bid.”

MJ gives him an unimpressed look before slinging her arm around his shoulder. “Peter Parker, you have no idea how cute you are,” she says, ruffling up his hair as he tries to shrug her off. It does make him crack a smile though. 

"I’m not cute MJ. I’m a dorky loser. A scrawny dorky loser,” he protests, which is a bit of a lie. He might be thin, but under his shirt he can definitely boast some pretty nice abs, thank you SHIELD training and spider powers.

MJ rolls her eyes at him. “I’m serious Pete! You’d be surprised how many people are into that nerdy science hipster thing you have going on. I could name four people just off the top of my head who have crushes on you. And don’t you dare pull that scrawny thing on me! We’ve been to the beach together Mr. I Swear I Don’t Work Out These Just Appeared Overnight,” she pokes him in the abdomen and he lets out an over dramatic ‘oof’ of pain, folding in on himself like she’d stabbed him with a well manicured nail.

“Hold on,” he says after a few seconds of shared laughter. “Four people have crushes on me?”

MJ shakes her head, huffing out an amused but exasperated breath. “You really know how to cling to the unimportant details don’t you Pete?”

“Deflection is my specialty,” he nods in agreement. “Although you totally have to spill names to me later.”

“Maybe. We’ll see,” she says, patting him on the head as he pouts.

They gather up by the stage, watching Danny and Harry play air guitar together for a second in silence and smiling at the antics of their friends.

“Hey guys,” Luke says, walking over to them with Ava by his side. “Sweet Christmas, Danny and Harry really went all out didn’t they?” he asks fondly, giving the two boys on stage a wave.

“There is no way they did this on the school budget,” Ava chimes in, looking around skeptically. “There’s a chocolate fountain over there, and I saw some of those creepy street performers who act like statues over by the locker rooms.”

“Maybe they’re really cheap street performers?” Peter suggests, and Ava rolls her eyes.

“Sure. It has nothing to do with the fact that they’re both loaded,” she huffs, turning to scan the room again, pointing out in mild horror how the balloon animals look suspiciously like their hero alter egos. Though she has to admit to a laughing Luke that the Tiger one does look kind of awesome.

“You know Sam is taking part in the auction right?” MJ asks Peter after a moment, trying and failing to be subtle about the way she’s watching him for a reaction.

“Is this an attempt to guilt me about not doing it?” Peter asks, rolling his eyes. “Because it’s not going to work.”

“No. We’re onto a new subject now,” she says knowingly. He’s about to ask what the heck she’s trying to imply when Harry and Danny are suddenly center stage, the microphone screeching horribly before they manage to get it working properly.

“Well now that we have everyone’s attention,” Harry says, smiling charmingly as he earns a few chuckles from the gathered students and staff. “I’d like to welcome you all to Midtown’s first ever Date Night Charity Auction!”

Peter claps along with everyone else, figuring it’s the least he can do to show his support for Harry and Danny despite the fact that he thinks this is a stupid idea. Why anyone would want to be forced to go on an awkward date with someone just because they paid for it is beyond him. Then again it is for charity, and scanning the crowd of possible dates on stage Peter realizes most of them have significant others who are probably planning on bidding for them. Still, it’s not like a bunch of broke high school kids are going to be dropping a hundred dollars on a charity date. He bets the most anyone will bid is ten dollars.

”Now if you’ll give us a few moments of your time Danny here is going to talk a little bit about the kids your money will be helping and explain the rules, while I go flirt with the hot dates we’ve got waiting for you all back stage,” Harry says with a wink, handing the mic over to Danny.

“Hello friends,” Danny begins, and that’s about as much as Peter hears before he tunes out.

Hey, in his defense there’s a lot to look at in the gym, although that doesn’t exactly account for why he keeps glancing at the spot where Harry disappeared backstage. He wonders what Sam is doing back there, if he’s nervous about having to stand up in front of their whole school and have people bid to date him. Peter knows he would be.

”And finally, remember that winning a date does not guarantee romance. The ways of the heart are often complex and mysterious, and though you may lead a deer to the stream it may not always wish to drink,” Danny concludes with a smile.

“I think he’s calling us all thirsty,” Peter whispers to MJ as Harry moves forward to reclaim the microphone from Danny.

The corners of MJ’s mouth turn up and she nudges him, trying not to laugh out loud. “You’re the only thirsty one here Peter,” she whispers back, shushing him and pointing to the stage before he can splutter out his indignant response.

 

"Riiight. And on that… interesting note, let’s get started with Jessica Jones!" Harry announces as a girl with purple hair emerges from backstage. Peter isn’t the most observant guy in the world, but he does notice the way that Luke perks up as she shrugs and gives a little half-wave. He definitely notices the way Luke growls whenever someone else makes a bid, and he makes sure to high-five him when he ends up paying six dollars to go on a date with her. 

Surprisingly everyone seems to get really into the whole bidding thing. Sure the bids only increase by a dollar or two each time, but a few of the bidding wars get heated enough that it never gets boring. Peter even pays attention to who is doing the bidding, and finds some pretty weird pairings that he never would have considered before. For example, Vance from his english class wins a date with the grumpy guy named Kaine who everyone always claims looks like Peter (Peter really doesn’t see it). Then again he’s not sure how seriously to take that one. After all Vance’s long term boyfriend is holding his hand the whole time, bouncing on the balls of his feet and catcalling the boy on stage until Kaine looks like he’s ready to murder them both. Slowly.

Oddly enough Flash Thompson ends up bidding on dates with both girls and boys. Peter is actually pretty proud when one of Flash’s jock friends makes a comment and he hears Flash respond “What are you some kinda homophobe dude?” despite his tomato red blush. He’s a little less proud to hear the added “Don’t make me shove your homophobic ass in a locker” but hey, baby steps right?

It seems like forever before Sam is called up to the front to be met by cheers from the crowd, though of course the loudest cheering comes from their group of friends. Still, someone in the crowd who Peter doesn’t know gives him a wolf whistle, and Pete finds himself feeling equally amused and annoyed. As if Sam needs anything to inflate his already huge ego.

To be fair though, he does kind of see the person’s point. In a totally objective sort of way of course.

Because Sam actually looks… nice. He’s gotten all dressed up for this, wearing a black jacket that’s more stylish than he normally over a skin tight t-shirt and jeans that look like he might have painted them on. Even his hair looks kinda good, all stylishly messy which means MJ definitely did it for him. Peter is pretty sure a few of the girls in the audience are swooning… that or they’re just getting weak from lack of food. Thank goodness the bidding is almost over, he thinks as his stomach grumbles in agreement.

"Okay, here he is, last but definitely not least! Let’s start the bidding for Sam Alexander," Harry calls out, inexplicably glancing over at Peter and MJ as he announces him.

Sam does a slow turn, showing off as usual, before smirking and winking at his audience. He struts up and down the stage like a model on a catwalk as the bidding begins at a dollar from Ava. From there it only gets worse, and when a pretty blonde girl bids two dollars he goes all out and blows her a kiss.

Peter gapes at him, completely baffled. Surely no one is falling for this cheese right?

“Four bucks!”

Peter’s brow furrows as he glances over to where Flash is actually waving four dollar bills at the stage, like he thinks he’s already won. Sam grins, and then does these horribly cheesy finger guns at him and Peter’s blood boils.

Oh hell no. 

There is no way he’s letting Flash go on a date with Sam. Bucket Head might be annoying, but he doesn’t deserve that.

“Five dollars,” he calls out, feeling the tips of his ears go a bit red when Sam glances over and the corners of his mouth turn up. He doesn’t get finger guns though. In fact Sam barely gives him more than that glance and smirk before looking back towards the rest of the crowd and giving them a gleaming smile. Peter can’t help the surge of annoyance in his chest.

Some girl on the other side of the room bids seven dollars, and then another girl bids nine and Peter figures he should relax now since Flash has already shook his head in defeat, but he’s still tense for some reason. He tells himself that maybe it’s just the way Sam is showboating, even as another part of his brain is busy screaming at him that denial isn’t just a river in Egypt.

“Oh why not… ten!” MJ calls out like a traitorous traitor, and if Peter didn’t know any better he’d swear she had smiled knowingly at him right before she spoke.

Nope. Nope nope nope.

MJ and Sam on a date? That’s 100x worse than Sam and Flash on a date. If Sam managed to land a date with MJ Peter is positive he’d never hear the end of it.

And then suddenly vivid visions of the two of them on a date rise unbidden to Peter’s mind. He sees Sam and MJ rollerskating holding hands, going for a walk on the beach at sunset, oh god… sharing spaghetti Lady and the Tramp style- no no no. It’s too horrible to even imagine. 

The thought of Sam’s smug face and all the boasting is just too much for him to handle. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out the few sad bills he has left, counts them twice and then takes a deep breath.

“Twenty-five dollars. Final offer.”

The gym goes silent, and even Sam seems too shocked to smirk for one blessed moment. The most anyone has spent on a date is ten dollars, so he might have overdone it just a little, but the thought of Sam on a date with anyone… the thought of how smug he’d be… Peter just couldn’t take it anymore.

“We have a winner!” Harry declares triumphantly after a second. Then suddenly the silence is broken and everyone is murmuring, and Sam is giving him this look that’s too hard to read when he’s trying to avoid the other hero’s eyes. Peter can’t even bear to glance over and see the expressions on Luke, MJ and Ava’s faces. “And with that generous bid we’ve reached the end of the auction,” Harry continues cheerfully, his eyes gleaming as he smiles at Peter, looking almost proud. “If our winners could come forward and pay my dashing partner in green, everyone else be sure to check out the food table so that you can eat your disappointment.”

Danny smiles brightly and steps up to stand beside Harry as most people head towards the other end of the room to get cake. Peter watches warily as people filter up to hand Danny their money before being ushered giggling towards their future dates.

“Go on Peter. You won your date fair and square,” MJ cackles at his side, shoving him forward before he can protest. He stumbles awkwardly, falling directly into Danny who just smiles and helps him straighten back up.

“Peter, thank you for your generous donation. I’m glad that you have decided to follow your heart friend,” Danny says, holding out his hand for Peter’s hard earned money. “The children will appreciate it,” he has to add when it takes a second for Peter to let go. 

“Right. Well… I did it for the children,” Peter tries to laugh, but the pain of parting with his money is still too raw and it comes out strained. Danny raises an eyebrow and seems to be fighting back a smile as he nods. 

“Of course. Perhaps you’d like to see your date?”

“I- no thats… I mean I see him all the time so… I could just-” he splutters as Danny gently guides him by the elbow towards the stage. Sam is standing talking to a girl Peter doesn’t know, but as soon as he sees him he gives her a wave and starts walking in Peter’s direction. Sweat breaks out along his forehead and it feels like the room is getting a thousand times warmer, especially when Danny pats him on the shoulder and hops up onto the stage to join Harry with the money, leaving him alone to face his doom.

“So, twenty-five dollars huh Parker?” Sam asks, his grin wide and pleased. He’s closer than Peter is comfortable with right now when he’s feeling so hot, but there’s no room to back up without hitting the stage. 

“I uh… I had to save you from the pain of dating Flash. And save myself from the pain of you bragging about dating MJ,” he replies as he tries to figure out what to do with his hands. For some reason they just wont stay still.

“Mhmm,” Sam moves in close, his eyes narrowed a second as they scan Peter’s face. “I hope you realize you really do have to take me on an actual date now Parker,” he hums, his expression shifting to something… something Peter has never seen before. His smile is warm; still teasing but not in the usual ‘I’m making fun of you Parker’ way. This smile makes Peter’s chest flutter strangely instead of making him clench his fists in anger.

He’s positive he would have remembered Sam looking at him like that before.

”I uh… I mean… of course. Yeah. I’m a man of my word and all,” he manages to say, despite feeling like his face is on fire.

”Good,” Sam pokes him in the chest. “I expect a full dinner and a movie too.”

Peter nods, his eyes huge. ”When… I mean, is Saturday okay? Aunt May wont be home so we could uh… not that we have to be alone but… do you want to meet at my place? At five?” he manages to squeak, and Sam grins up at him poking him again. 

“It’s a date Parker. See you then,” he says flippantly, and turns to wander back to the girl he was chatting with earlier. 

Peter gulps, definitely doesn’t check out Sam’s ass, and wonders when exactly his life got this far out of his control.

 

……….

 

By the time five o clock rolls around on Saturday Peter has changed his shirt six times, almost burnt the house down twice, and has possibly made a trench in his ceiling from pacing on it while waiting for Sam to arrive.

When he finally does show up (only a minute late though it seemed like an hour) Peter suddenly regrets all of his choices. He’s wearing a shirt that’s just a little too fancy, though at least he tried to tone it down with some plain jeans, and his cologne is nice but he might have used just a tad too much, and he can still smell the smoke from his earlier cooking adventures. Not to mention there’s a pristine white table cloth and actual candles on the table.

Sam is going to laugh at him.

Sam is going to laugh at him and then he’s going to leave, and Peter will have to change his name and move to Alaska so that he never sees him again.

The knock on the door is so sudden and loud that it nearly makes Peter fall off the roof.

“Shit… coming!” he calls, flipping down into a crouch and desperately trying to fix his hair as he walks over to let Sam in.

“Hey Webs,” Sam greets him, and Peter is relieved to see that he dressed up a little bit too. Nothing too obvious, but he’s wearing that nice jacket again and he can definitely smell a hint of cologne as Sam walks past him into the house.

Instead of heading to the dining room Sam takes off his backpack, throwing it onto the couch with the easy familiarity that comes from having lived there for a while. Peter raises an eyebrow as Sam’s helmet almost falls out of the unzipped pocket.

“You flew here?” he asks, beckoning him towards where he has the table all set up.

“Well duh. How else was I gonna come? Don’t worry Parker, I made sure I took the helmet off and walked the last little bit to your house. Your secret id is safe,” Sam says, his eyes lighting up as he takes in the scene before him. “Are those candles? Really?”

“Yeah, I figured they set the mood. And I uh… I kinda spent my last twenty-five dollars winning this date,” Peter says sheepishly, barely tripping over the d-word. “Which means you have to suffer through a homemade meal instead of going out. Sorry if the chicken is kind of um… crispy.”

Sam raises an eyebrow at him, but he’s smiling so Peter figures he isn’t too upset. “You actually took the time to cook something?” Sam asks incredulously. “I mean, no offense but I kinda figured you were just messing with me and you wouldn’t take this whole date thing seriously.”

“Do you really think I’d spend twenty-five dollars if I wasn’t…” Peter trails off, suddenly unsure of how much his words will give away. He feels like he and Sam are on the edge of admitting a lot of unsaid things, but he can’t for the life of him figure out what exactly Sam isn’t saying. And if they’re going to tip over that edge… well Peter wants to be sure he wont end up smashing into the ground.

Whatever Sam reads into his words he seems to accept it though, because he just nods, fighting back a pleased little smile. “Okay. Now hurry up and bring me food. If it’s burnt and cold I’m gonna have to go all Gordon Ramsay on you dude.”

“Knowing you, you’re gonna douse it in hot sauce anyways, so I don’t see why it matters,” Peter laughs, the banter putting him at ease. He gets Sam seated and heads to the kitchen, bringing out the blackened chicken and a few veggies he’d tried and possibly failed to steam.

The meal looks even more… interesting sitting on the table than it did just out of the oven, which makes Peter feel a little queasy. Sam has made him so many delicious meals in the past (once he eased off on the overuse of spice that is), and he had wanted to return the favor, but he has a feeling he might have missed the mark ever so slightly.

Oh well. If worse comes to worse he figures they can just eat the rolls he’d asked aunt May to bake before she left.

Uncharacteristically Sam doesn’t say a word, though his expression is wary as he tries to pick out the least charred meat he can find to put on his plate. Peter waits with bated breath as Sam makes a ceremony of taking the first bite and chewing.

“Wow, it’s actually not terrible,” he says after a moment of overly dramatic consideration. “Could have used a bit of spice, but it’s actually edible.”

“Don’t sound so shocked,” Peter chuckles, taking a bite of his own. Sam’s right, it’s not exactly delicious, but he’ll definitely be able to eat it. “We can’t all be culinary geniuses like you, but I have watched my aunt cook before.”

Peter glances up at Sam to see him smiling all pleased down at his chicken.

“You think I’m a culinary genius,” he boasts, and normally Peter would protest but Sam looks so happy that all he can bring himself to do is shrug.

Sam’s knee bumps up against his under the table and neither one of them move their legs away.

“You’re better than me, that’s for sure,” Peter says, shaking some salt onto his chicken. He watches in amusement as Sam dumps an unholy amount of pepper on his, before reaching out in a silent demand for the salt shaker. Their fingers brush as Peter passes it over and he wonders why he’s suddenly so aware of every little touch and how warm each one makes him feel.

”Well duh. I’m better than you at everything Webs.”

They continue on like that, bickering in a way that’s familiar yet somehow completely new. It’s like they’re having a normal hangout, only there’s this weird sort of charge underneath everything that makes everything seem more exciting somehow. 

“I hope you like kung fu movies,” Peter says after dinner as they scrape the mush that was their untouched vegetables into the garbage. 

Sam groans, an agonized drawn out sound that Peter momentarily worries might never end. 

“I’m gonna take that as a no?” he queries timidly when the groaning finally stops.

“They’re fine I guess… but living with Danny I’ve seen every single one at least three times,” Sam tells him. His face is that of a man haunted by bad dubbing and even worse special effects. 

“I probably should have seen this coming since Danny’s the one who lent them to me,” Peter sighs taking Sam’s plate and putting it in the sink. “But at least we can make fun of them together? I bet Danny was too into them to do that.”

Sam’s eyes light up like he’s just activated the Nova Force. “I have so many jokes ready, you have no idea!” he cheers, grabbing Peter’s hand and tugging him into the living room. 

Peter laughs nervously, not sure if he can handle Sam’s idea of good jokes for an entire kung fu marathon, but charmed at how enthusiastic he is and relieved that movie night has been salvaged. If Sam didn’t enjoy himself Peter would have been officially crowned Worst Date Ever.

There’s a moment just before they sit where Peter hesitates, suddenly nervous about their seating situation. Are they supposed to cuddle? Leave room for the Holy Spirit? Sit on opposite ends of the room? What if Sam sat on his lap? He’s definitely small enough…

Sam takes matters into his own hands, tugging him down along with him onto the couch. He lets Peter settle before slithering down to rest his head against the opposite armrest and propping his feet up in Pete’s lap.

Honestly it’s all a bit disappointing. This is basically how they sit all the time, the only difference being that this time Peter doesn’t pretend that the stench of Sam’s feet is slowly killing him. 

“Oh oh, you’re gonna love this guy. He’s got the lamest lines ever,” Sam say as the man on screen gets into battle position. “He kinda reminds me of you actually,” he adds slyly, curling his toes as he laughs and Peter smacks at his knee.

“This experience is going to be painful isn’t it?” Peter asks, receiving an immensely pleased nod from Sam as answer.

It’s not.

In fact, Peter hasn’t had this much fun in a long time, and all they’re really doing is laughing so hard at their own stupid jokes that they can’t even hear the movie. By the time they’ve watched three bad films the sky outside the window has gone dark, and Peter realizes that they’ve been at it for a lot longer than he thought.

“Oh man, I don’t know what you’re talking about, those were great,” Peter giggles, muting the tv as the credits start to roll. Sam doesn’t even dignify that with a response, just gives him a disbelieving look and puts his feet up in Peter’s face. This of course leads to an epic scuffle that ends with Sam crawling over to tickling Peter and both of them almost rolling off of the cushions and onto the floor as they flail around.

“Well this has been fun, even if your taste in movies sucks,” Sam tells him when he catches his breath, getting up from the couch and stretching out his limbs. “But Coulson’s got us on a curfew so I gotta get going.” 

“Right,” Peter says, feeling inexplicably sad all of a sudden. He watches Sam pull his helmet out of his bag with a sinking heart, but tries to smile as he says, “Well, it was nice having you over.”

Sam looks up at him as he puts on his helmet, the blue glow covering his body for a moment before his costume appears. ”Yeah it was fun. So you gonna go put on the suit?” he asks impatiently.

Peter tilts his head in confusion.

“This is supposed to be a date dude, you are planning on walking me home aren’t you?” Sam asks, grinning as Peter’s face lights up with understanding.

“Oh gotcha! Be back in a sec,” he says, jumping up and rushing up the stairs two at a time to tug on his Spidey suit. His excitement at extending the night seems to be contagious, because Sam is buzzing with energy as well when he eventually comes bounding back downstairs and holds the door open for him.

Once they reach the city they don’t bother walking anymore. After all, why walk when superpowers are so much more fun? And then, like most things between them, suddenly the ‘walk’ home becomes a competition. This time they’re competing to see who can do the best aerial tricks, and though Peter knows he’s pretty awesome at flips, he has to admit that Sam has some pretty rad moves of his own.

Soon enough they reach the spot where the Tricarrier floats, a silent and invisible giant in the sky. Peter lands on a roof, wondering if he’s going to have to try to web his way up somehow, when suddenly a better idea comes to mind. 

“Hey Nova,” he calls out, running towards the edge of the roof. “Catch!”

He leaps off the roof, not bothering to shoot a web as Sam swoops in and grabs him, heading straight up towards the Tricarrier with Peter in his arms.

“Going up,” he whoops through laughter as he rockets upwards so quickly that Peter has to cling with his arms around his neck to keep from flying away.

They land breathless and giggly on the Tricarrier, and Sam places Peter back on his feet, beckoning him to follow as he heads towards his room. He takes off his helmet, so Peter figures it’s safe enough for him to remove his mask too without getting caught by any random SHIELD agents. 

“Nice place you got here,” he says to fill the sudden quiet, and Sam snorts and nudges him with his elbow. 

“Thanks. Just had it redecorated. I’d invite you in to see my room but I’m not that kinda guy,” he responds and Peter feels the tips of his ears go red. 

“I’ve been in your room before Sam, believe me I know I’m probably better off out here.” He makes a mental note to find a hazmat sign to stick to Sam’s door someday just to piss him off.

“I can’t believe you’re insulting me right now. You were doing so well so far tonight,” Sam huffs as they arrive at his room, turning to face each other awkwardly. 

“Sorry dude, but you have to admit your room is totally a disaster zone,” he tells him solemnly, placing his hand on Sam’s elbow. “And If you don’t make it out again alive, I just want you to know that I had a good time tonight.”

“Yeah yeah. I guess it was a pretty okay night Parker. You did good,” Sam tells him with a small smile.

Peter pauses for a moment, letting his hand linger on Sam’s arm. He’s struck by how much he doesn’t want this night to end. He also can’t help but notice how nice Sam looks as he runs his hand through his hair to fix his bad case of helmet head, and the pretty shade of his skin in the low light of the Tricarrier’s hallway.

They stand there quietly with expectation thick in the air. Peter is pretty sure he’s been reading this right, but if he’s wrong Sam might never let him live it down, and honestly he’s sort of scared.

Then again Peter Parker has had a lot of experience with fear, and he had decided a long time ago that it wasn’t going to get in his way.

“So… do I have to wait until the next charity thing for us to do this again?” he asks nervously, running his hand through his hair.

Sam smiles at him, that smile that he reserves for when he thinks Peter is being an idiot , and nudges him with his shoulder. “Not if you ask me out again before then.”

“Will it cost me twenty-five bucks every time?” Peter laughs in relief.

Sam raises his eyebrows looking comically affronted. “Excuse you Parker… do I look like a cheap date to you? It’s gonna cost you more than twenty-five bucks,” he says matter of factly.

“Ugh that settles it. I have to get a job at the Bugle like MJ. She did say they were looking for a photographer…” Peter trails off thoughtfully. “I just hope you appreciate the fact that I’m willing to sell out for you.”

”What are you gonna do, sell them selfies?” Sam snorts.

“Yeah why not. Not action shots though, I figure I’ll just go with random Spidey bathroom selfies.”

“I can see the headlines now,” Sam chuckles. “Menace Spider-Man uses Public Washroom: Doesn’t Flush or Wash His Hands!”

“Oh gross. That’s just slander,” Peter shoves Sam’s shoulder playfully. “Maybe you should get a job there too. I’m sure you could come up with a million ways to make me look bad.”

“I could,” he agrees cheerfully. “And then maybe if I’m feeling nice I could take you out for dinner to make up for it.”

Peter beams and Sam beams back, and for a moment everything is wonderful. Even the silence that stretches between them doesn’t seem awkward, and the only regret Peter has is that he can’t linger just a little bit longer. 

“Well goodnight Bucket Head. See you tomorrow at school,” Peter says after a moment, the buzzing excitement in his blood at odds with the regret that this night has to end so soon.

Sam shakes his head, his smile suddenly falling into a frown.

“Hold on a sec, I thought this was a real date Parker. Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asks, leaning up onto his toes a little and then rocking back onto his heels. He seems nervous and excited all at once, a look of anticipation on his face as he looks up into Peter’s eyes before glancing down at his own feet.

“Oh am I?” Peter hums, pretending to think about it, though at this point he’s pretty sure he knows what Sam wants, and he wants it just as much. “You sure? Because I’m pretty sure I did everything. Candle lit dinner, movie, walking you to the door…”

Sam glares, and then suddenly he’s leaning forward , his hands on Peter’s arms to steady himself as he presses their lips together. Peter takes in a shocked breath, and just has enough time to kiss back before Sam leans back again, somehow managing to look smug despite the red splotches on his cheeks. Peter can’t really fault him for it though. He has the right to be smug since Peter’s heart is pounding harder than after a training session, and his whole body is tingling pleasantly just from those few seconds.

“That. That’s what you were forgetting,” Sam says, sounding just as stunned as Peter feels. 

“My mistake. I should really fix that,” he breathes back. And then his hands are on Sam’s hips, Sam’s arms are twined around his neck and they’re kissing again. This time it’s even better, slower and longer and so good that Peter doesn’t ever want it to stop.

When they finally pull back they stay close, foreheads pressed together as they try to hide the embarrassed flush of their faces from each other. Peter had never really understood what people meant when they said they felt a spark from kissing, but that right there? That was like being plugged directly into an electrical outlet. In a good way.

”Okay,” Sam says, stepping back. His face is bright red as he touches his finger to the scanner on the door. It slides open and Peter catches a momentary glimpse of his messy floor before his attention is drawn back to Sam’s adorably blushing face. “Yeah, that was better. Night Parker.” With that he turns and walks into his room, letting the door slide shut behind him. 

Peter stands there for a second before he leaves, his fingertips pressed to his smiling lips. 

Okay… so maybe Harry and Danny’s date auction wasn’t such a dumb idea after all.


End file.
